Friday Poem


from [Statue of Liberty]
Ann Killough

So now what if the Statue of Liberty has found out that she can move
and is only waiting for the right moment?

What if there are beginning to be words in her book, more and
more words on the coppery pages, the ones that do not turn, or not

What if she is beginning to feel the horror of her position, the way
she has no peers or even anyone who understands that she is in the
tradition of the enormous destroyer?

What is it she is becoming convinced she must destroy?


So now picture what you think the Statue of Liberty might destroy
and realize that you are not right.

That whatever you thought of is not it, or at least not quite it and
certainly not all of it.

That you have no idea what she is thinking, or at least not a complete

That the very nature of her body renders her susceptible not only to
alien transmissions but to all the other transmissions of the earth.

That she is a kind of Pole along with the North and South ones and
draws the magnetic fields of the earth toward herself like shiploads
of huddled immigrants and reads them like ticker tape inside her
spiky head.

That she feels what you feel but much more of it.

That she sees what you see but the backside of it as well, the side
you will never see.

That she has already begun to change something even in you, even
in me.

That we already know what it is.